


The Flavor Of Your Lips Is Enough To Keep Me Here

by ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal



Series: How To Fuck Your Sokovian Slut [3]
Category: Black Widow (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Scarlet Witch (Comic), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Based on an All Time Low Song, Breast Fucking, Breastfeeding, F/F, F/M, Inspired by Music, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Sex, Psionics, Sex, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 14:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18100139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal/pseuds/ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal
Summary: Heavily pregnant and suffering from the tiny-ish issue of having her breasts leak with milk, Wanda's lovers present her with quite an odd solution.Well, maybe only slightly odd.It's fun, at any rate, so who is she to complain?





	The Flavor Of Your Lips Is Enough To Keep Me Here

**Author's Note:**

> For Kenzie Reeves and Ariella Fererra, who did that one porno that more-or-less inspired this one. Here's ta ya, gals.

//

_“Lilith is looking absolutely delicious down there. Mmmmmm….”_

_\- Mad Moxxi, Borderlands_

//

  _ **(I Gots Tig Ol' Bitties / ...because BOOBIES! / Country Roads, Take Me Home)  
**_

//

“Fuck.”

That little coarse word, falling out of the lips of one Wanda Maximoff, was a bit of a surprise, considering how soft spoken she usually was. Though given that said woman in question was one, heavily pregnant and two, not particularly inclined towards being soft spoken in said state, it was kind of understandable.

This was the third time it had happened today. 

Staring at the slowly growing stain across the crests of her top, Wanda sighed and spun around, heading right back for her room. She didn’t mind being pregnant, not at all, she _did_ mind the fact that her breasts seemed to have a mind of their own, leading to her current predicament. Long story made short, said tits, knockers, whatever the hell one wanted to call them, had grown noticeably in the weeks and months following that beautiful night in which Wanda had been fucked senseless by Steve and Natasha. The once-perky things were now swollen with milk, ready for the unborn children that grew in her womb...except well, it was only the seventh month. Which meant another two months of soaked dress tops and generally not being a happy camper on the subject of dressing up. Wanda was almost tempted to just go around topless for the next couple of months. Admittedly, that might be a bit of a problem in colder weather, but the Sokovian’s thought train was currently hovering somewhere around the train stop of “throw rationality out a window”.

“What’s the rush?”

The voice of one Natasha Romanov had Wanda stopping in her tracks, turning around to see her girlfriend leaning against a doorway in the suave, badass way that only people who’d either peaked in high school or had enough self-confidence to fly to the moon had. Not that Natasha was either, she was a legitimate suave badass, but it was the spirit of the thought that counted. “I need to change.” She replied, raising an eyebrow adorning a hazel eye _just so_. Natasha, for her part, made a little noise of acknowledgement and walked over, running her eyes over the brown-haired woman in a manner best described as lustful.

“Why so?” The redhead gave her the kind of look that said she knew exactly _why_ Wanda desired a change of clothes, she just wanted to hear it from her mouth.

“Because…” Heat creeped across her cheeks, and Wanda found herself trailing off.

“Is it because of this?” A hand reached up and traced delicately across one of Wanda’s swollen breasts, and a gentle application of pressure drew forth a small burst of the sweet fluid. A small whimper came out of the Sokovian’s throat, and Natasha’s lips gently pressed against her cheek. “I think…” Said the redhead, her hands moving to Wanda’s shoulders. “That we need to find a new solution.” She steered the pregnant woman away from her quarters and towards her own room, ignoring the protests that came out of her mouth. Opening the door and ushering Wanda through the threshold, Natasha shut the mobile barrier behind her and gestured at the bed.

“Get on the bed.” She commanded, in the kind of tone that was usually seen when she was in Black Widow mode. Wanda obeyed immediately, scrambling onto the mattress, sitting down on it and, after a hand signal from the redhead, lying back on it, head resting against the pillows. Natasha followed in her footsteps, climbing onto the bed and crawling across its length, hovering just above Wanda a couple seconds later. A hand went for her top, gently pulling the loose fabric down and baring Wanda’s breasts to the red-haired woman. A moment later, Natasha’s head surged forward, mouth latching onto one of the swollen mounds, the subsequent pull of milk eliciting a small squeak out of the pregnant woman.

“Nat?! What-what are you doing!”

Raising her free hand in the universal gesture of “please wait, I’m busy breastfeeding”, otherwise known as a single, raised index finger, Natasha gulped down a couple more mouthfuls of the sweet fluid that had all but burst out of Wanda’s nipple the instant she’d so much as _breathed_ on it, and lifted her head up. “Solving your little problem.” She said, with an overly exaggerated swipe of her mouth with the back of her hand. “It’s not like the triplets are gonna be needing it anytime soon.”

And, with her argument laid forth, the redhead’s mouth went right back to where it had been not thirty seconds ago.

It was actually quite tasty, because of course it was. As for why, Natasha’s brain didn’t bother to deliberate. She could discuss the merits of breast milk flavors with Wanda _after_ she’d taken care of the pregnant woman’s little overflow problem, and despite the fact the noises the little hazel-eyed psionic was making sounded somewhere between embarrassment and pleasure, the fact that she hadn’t been psionically put through the nearest vertical surface meant that Wanda was appreciating her help. Her tongue swirled across the wet surface of Wanda’s breast, each gentle push forward causing another spurt of milk to come forth and into her waiting mouth. She swallowed what she could, though the flow of the creamy substance was thick enough that one would not begrudge the redhead if she decided to pull back and take a breath.

Which was exactly what she did, after releasing the hold she’d had on that particular breast. Wanda’s right, her mind helpfully supplied, as she caught her breath and resumed a more normal breathing pattern, now that her mouth was empty again, very conducive to that whole ‘intake air’ thing that humans are often want to do. “That stuff is...actually pretty good.” She said, staring at Wanda, who, for all intents and purposes, was blushing.

Heavily.

“Natasha…” Said the Sokovian for the umpteenth time that day. No doubt she was intending on launching into some spiel about how she didn’t have to do this for her, how she could get by without having to basically breastfeed the redhead, but the woman in question wasn’t particularly inclined to listen to said spiel in the first place, particularly because she legitimately _liked_ the taste of Wanda’s milk and wanted more.

“Did it help?” Went the spy, the innocently phrased question causing a pair of hazel eyes to widen ever so slightly.

“Yes.” Wanda said. “But, uh, I can…”

A Russian-born mind decided that actions were louder than words, and a single, free hand came upwards to the other, untouched breast, and gave it a gentle squeeze. The burst of milk that came out of _that_ particular mammary had Wanda moaning in surprise, and satisfied her point had been made, Natasha moved her mouth back to the previously used tit and set her free hand to push Wanda back onto the mattress.

There was a moan. Or a squeal. Either way, the noise was a delighted one.

All the incentive Natasha needed.

She drank greedily from the breasts of her lover, gulping down mouthful after mouthful of sweet, creamy fluid. When she got bored of sucking at one tit, she switched to the other, taking Wanda for everything she had. The noises the younger woman made were...delightful, to say the least. Once she’d realized exactly how superior a solution being relieved of the milk in her breasts was, compared against putting on another top and waiting for the inevitable, the Sokovian had taken to the experience with vigor. Which was probably why Wanda’s hands had gone to Natasha’s back, holding her in place and letting the elder woman freely drink from her. Fingers ran through the redhead’s hair, and Wanda had begun pressing her lips against her forehead in a show of affection. Natasha accepted every gesture of approval quite joyfully, she thoroughly liked how Wanda had come around once she’d been shown the joys of breastfeeding.

One last little pull of milk, and Natasha was done. Pulling away from Wanda’s breasts, she gave one of them an experimental touch, and when nothing came out, she felt quite satisfied at her work.

“Better?” She asked, giving a smug, satisfied little smile.

“Very.” Wanda said, pulling Natasha up to her eye-level, gently, of course, to account for the rather swollen belly that was in the way. She pressed her lips to Natasha’s, breaking the lock and offering her a smile of her own. “I think we should do this again sometime.”

Natasha smiled.

//

It is said that time slows down during a crisis.

Now, the word crisis can mean many things, such as an oversized manly grape obsessed with the word ‘half’ invading a planet to add more glowly rocks to his Michael Jackson-esque glove, or when one’s overly full breasts leak milk in public. Fortunately, for the sake of all involved in this overly detailed tale of breast milk and pregnant women worship, the current definition is trending towards the latter, which is good.

Not that Wanda Maximoff sees it that way.

Particularly during an Avengers Staff Meeting, also known as “Three hours of Tony Stark monologuing about the merits of anal sex, complete with pie chart, statistical graphs, and videos”. To be fair, that had only happened once, and Tony had been _really_ high when he did that, but the mind of a very pregnant witch is one that isn’t particularly given over to discussing semantics. Internally wondering how to get out of the room without having to hex everyone in it, Wanda subtly shifted her clothes in an attempt to better hide her breasts, which only provoked the damn things into releasing more of that fluid they were holding. She made a very, very tiny noise of discomfort, which, to the ears of one Captain Steve Rogers, was the equivalent of shrieking in pain.

“If you’ll excuse me…” Said the blonde, walking over to Wanda and motioning for the uncomfortable woman to get up.

“But you’re gonna miss the best part about the presentation!” Tony called after him.

“Sam, you mind giving me the rundown afterwards?” Steve asked. 

“No problem, but you gotta cover the tab when I order out tonight.” Came the voice of the ex-pararescueman.

“Done.” Steve said, and with that, he shut the door behind him, scooped Wanda up into his arms, and carried her to his room as gingerly and gently as he could. The psionic still had the presence of mind to open the door for him, a burst of reddish energy doing so, and he gingerly angled her into the room and set her down on the bed. “What happened?” He asked, closing the door behind him and taking a seat on the bed. In response, Wanda gestured at her shirt, and blue eyes caught sight of the growing dark spots on them.

“Oh.”

The word said it all. Somehow, in the space of a single syllable, Steve Rogers had somehow managed to cram _I’m going to help, don’t you worry_ and _Holy shit fuck I have a boner_ into that two letter word. “Could you help me release some of this?” Wanda asked, and Steve gave a little nod, reaching outwards and pulling her shirt off. For the purposes of not aggravating those milk-filled things, or probably because she hadn’t the presence of mind to actually choose to wear one, the brown-haired woman did not have a bra accompanying the shirt, which was probably why said thing had a pair of matching dark spots that would likely need a heavy duty turn in the washing machine to get clean.

Carefully laying Wanda down on the bed, Steve ran his fingers over Wanda’s breasts. Just the gentle touch of his hands alone was enough to coax milk out from the sensitive mounds, and once he actually started applying pressure and giving her tits gentle squeezes, his fingers were practically dripping with milk within the first minute alone. Letting a hand come up to suck at the fluid, Steve found that he liked the taste. Conveniently, that was about the time his body let Wanda know that he liked a lot more than just the taste. You see, due to the fact that she was very much pregnant, Steve Rogers had decided to scale back the the vigor of the sexual activities he and Wanda had engaged in. Which meant that for the most part, he and Natasha had been the ones doing all the seriously wild things. Not that Wanda particularly minded, she enjoyed the shows quite a bit. And she still could use her hands, or her mouth, to help out if she wanted.

Still, she did miss the days of giving Steve an orgasm with something other than the aforementioned sexual implements. Which was, of course, when a solution presented itself in the form of the fact that her breasts _really_ needed to be milked, and the fact that the large tentpole in the biker jeans of the supersoldier indicated he would’ve loved nothing more than to shove his dick between her tits and blow a load all over her face. Ah, the benefits of being able to read into the mind of an overly imaginative supersoldier who spent like, thirty percent of his week having sex. Though it was probably more like forty or fifty, depending on what day it was, though.

And with that in mind, Wanda spoke.

“I know what you’re thinking…” She said, causing Steve to stop in his tracks, hands freezing stone solid amidst the tits they were so diligently milking. “And it’s a very _good_ idea.”

In a strip show that would’ve left a professional stripper prostrating themselves at his feet and demanding to learn his ways, Steve Rogers yanked off all of his clothes and climbed back atop the bed in the space of about five seconds. Immediately shifting back to slightly-dorky, gentleman mode, Steve carefully navigated around the baby bump and, with a little bit of psionic-based help, slid his cock between Wanda’s milky tits. To say he enjoyed the sensation of said breasts, and the creamy coating, would have been an understatement on par with “Bucky Barnes likes sex”. In fact, the metal-armed man had apparently made it his mission to experience the joys of sex with basically anyone he could seduce into bed and then some, though whether this was because he was making up for some seventy-plus years of missed orgasms or because he had seen Fifty Shades of Grey and decided he could do better than the eponymous protagonists was anyone’s guess.

In any case, the look on Steve’s face was best described as _fuck yeah_. He gave a slow, careful thrust, just to see what would happen, and when a hex courtesy of the witch he was straddling didn’t materialize, he figured that he wasn’t doing any harm and began to set up a rhythm. The sound of his cock moving back and forth between Wanda’s milky tits permeated the air, each thrust causing a little bit more of the substance to spill forth from Wanda’s breasts. “Someone’s excited.” Wanda said, reaching up to touch Steve’s legs, letting her hands steady him while he moved. His hands came down to her breasts and continued their work, turning the little sprays of milk into an outright flow.

It was a pity Natasha was out visiting Clint. She would’ve loved to get in on this.

Moaning as the load in her breasts was released, Wanda’s hands slipped backwards and landed behind her head. She gazed up into Steve’s eyes, noting the pleased look in them, and gave the man an encouraging smile. In response, one of Steve’s milk-covered hands went to her face and touched it affectionately, tracing a line of fluid wherever his digits went. The slick, wet sensation of milk flowing down Wanda’s breasts and onto his cock made Steve moan. It was a low, throaty sound, but for the hazel-eyed witch beneath him, it was music to her ears. He delighted in showing Wanda how happy he was to be getting intimate with her again, in a manner a little more close than their previous sessions. Not that he didn’t like using her hands or her mouth to be coaxed into orgasm. He delighted in the sensation of Wanda’s fingers and the wet heat of her mouth. But this...the fullness of her tits, the slick creaminess of the fluid that was all but flowing out of them, this was a kind of sensation that was both familiar and new to him all at once, and he loved it.

Thoroughly enjoying having the milk within her breasts coaxed out via a series of rhythmic thrusts and the gentle ministrations of her lover, Wanda closed her eyes. This was blissful, feeling the pressure in her chest be relieved. She didn’t care that she was making a mess of the bed underneath her, all she cared about was the fact that those heavy tits were feeling a little bit lighter with every burst of milk. Steve stiffened, the distinct tell that the man was on the edge, and Wanda could tell he was trying to hold back and savor every moment of sliding his cock along her tits. “Let go, Steve.” She cooed, opening her eyes and letting her mouth drop a bit, and with one last thrust, he gave in and came.

With a bit of a yelp, Wanda turned her face ever so slightly as a thick shot of cum splashed against her face. She felt the subsequent ropes of cum coat her skin and slip into her mouth, and she instinctively stuck her tongue out, eager for more of his seed. Steve, for his part, was rather happy to fulfill this request, and his cock dutifully painted Wanda’s face with as much semen as he could muster. The milky-white fluid got absolutely everywhere, coating her face and tongue like a painter would a canvas, and some of it even got into her hair. And throughout it all, milk poured from her breasts, and while it wasn’t quite an orgasm, it might as well have been one, giving Wanda release and relief at the same time as Steve.

She relished the sensation of Steve coating her face in cum, enjoying the way he moaned and gasped in that cute little _I’m a manly man doing manly things_ kind of way that he always did things, revelling the expression of pure bliss on his face, that delighted look in his eyes. As one last rope of cum splashed against the surface of her tongue and signalled the end of his orgasm, Wanda reached up with one of her hands and touched Steve’s cheek, squeezing it affectionately.

“Did you have fun?” She asked.

“Yes. Yes I did.” Steve replied, glancing down at the place where his cock lay between her breasts. To say there was a mess would be some kind of an understatement. Milk and semen were spread across her breasts, neck and face in copious amounts, mixing freely, and the bedsheets beneath the witch’s body had been soaked. A thought sprung to Steve’s mind. “Hey, could you get me my phone?” He asked, and a burst of psionics had the item in question soaring into his hand a moment later. No doubt sensing his intentions, Wanda put on a smile and placed her hands above her head, giving a little wink as he activated the camera, pointed it at her, putting his cock and her fluid covered body on full display, and pressed the button.

//

As she drove down an old country road, humming contentedly to herself, the phone that was previously letting the stereo blare music went _ping_ a grand total of twice, alerting Natasha Romanov to the messages that she had just received.

The first one was apparently an attachment. The second was a single word.

_Urgent._

Pulling over, glad that there was no one else on the road with her, Natasha put the car in park and wondered what kind of business would have Steve contacting her by text rather than phone call. It probably wasn’t Avengers related business, it would’ve come through on the related channels, so she presumed that either Wanda was in labor or Steve had fucked up cooking lunch again. Pulling her phone from the little stand it was housed in, she tapped on the screen to pull up the attachment, and was greeted with a photo of the duo. Her eyes widened ever so slightly at the sight of Wanda, face covered in cum, with Steve’s milk-coated cock firmly between her milky breasts. She was winking, and the smile on her face spoke volumes about what had gone on in her absence.

Deciding that Clint could wait a little longer, Natasha reached down, undid her pants, and eyes not once leaving the photo of her lovers in a state of sexual ecstasy, began to enjoy herself.

//

_I can keep a secret if you can keep me guessing_

_The flavor of your lips is enough to keep me pressing_

_For more than just a moment of truth between the lies told_

_To pull ourselves away from the lives we leave back_

_(I can keep a secret if you can keep me guessing)_

_The flavor of your lips is enough to keep me here, keep me here_

_\- Alex Gaskarth_

//

**Author's Note:**

> Laura is all like "oh you poor thing!" when Natasha says she was late because of traffic. 
> 
> And Clint doesn't buy that excuse at all because he's Clint and knows her like the back of his hand. 
> 
> And Sam goes and orders like, an entire buffet and Steve has to shell out like a couple hundred bucks for dinner. Which is okay, really, because he likes Sam and he owes him for sitting through Tony's "Avengers' Business" Seminar, which got way off topic and somehow turned into a spirited argument on whether Twilight or Fifty Shades of Grey is the better series.
> 
> 10/8/19 - Alignment issues corrected.


End file.
